Greatest Fear
by Georgethecat
Summary: A one-shot set in the Arkham Asylum common room, featuring many of the major rogues. Scarecrow gets them to play one of his favourite games, all the while a few of them get in some of their own mind-games and one-ups.


_All characters owned by DC. Which is owned by WB. Which owns everything else, I think. _

"Don't TOUCH me!" came a screech from the common room.

Several guards perked up at the noise, only to see Pamela Isley shove Edward Nygma away from her.

He wasn't all that close to her in the first place, but had made the mistake of leaning in ever so slightly towards her on the couch to ask her a riddle.  
The Arkham Asylum common room was usually a place stocked with various Gotham super villains, the rogues as they called them. Then of course, there were the other lesser criminals, on the other side of the room, staying far away from the freaks of society.

Three long couches were positioned in a semi-circle around the TV, which hung on the wall. On the same wall as the TV, but further to the left was a table for playing games, like chess or backgammon. That was where Jervis Tetch and former Prof. Jonathan Crane sat at the moment, playing chess.

A guard stood at the wall near them, to make sure they didn't use the game pieces in an inappropriate manner. Next to him sat a three-foot doll in a chair, dressed up in jazz-era style gangster clothing.

Pamela Isley was scowling and huddled as far to the edge of the couch she was seated on as possible. Nygma looked curiously at her, shrugged his shoulders, then went back to his book of crossword puzzles – a gift he'd received from an admirer. He'd been allowed to keep it because of good behaviour.

On the couch directly opposite sat Drury Walker, also known as the Killer Moth, a convict who rarely ever escaped the asylum. He was picking cards from the man seated on the couch beside him.

About five feet behind the couch Walker sat on was a row of barred windows, a chair and a table, where Harvey Dent sat, his back to the room.

On the middle couch sat the Joker, shuffling cards and performing magic tricks for Walker. Walker looked delighted -- to be in the presence of the greater rogues – but yet fearful all at once.

The clown man was leaning up against the arm of the chair, one long leg stretched almost the entire length of the couch while the other leg was resting on the floor. Between his legs, a little blonde woman was seated, more so leaning over the back of the couch, facing away from the TV.

Harley Quinn was blowing little bits of wet napkin through a straw at a sedated Killer Croc, who was seated in a chair near the door and the guard's station.

Squished on the couch by Joker's feet was Arnold Wesker, who was rolling up little bits of napkin and passing them to Harley as she requested them.

"Ahh, Miss Isley," Nygma said. "I should have known better than to bother you. I do apologize. I just thought you might want to exchange a bit of wit."

Isley just looked at him and glowered. The Joker snorted.

"Say, Pammy, I'd tell you that if you do that your face will stay that way, but since it already has—"

"Stuff it, clown," she snapped, interuppting the Joker.

"Feisty!" he said, slamming his fist down on the arm of the couch beside him, causing Walker to jump.

"Guard!" Isley yelled. One of the guards, Jerry, came strolling over. "He isn't supposed to be any where near Harley! Doctor's orders!"

It wasn't so much that Isley was overly concerned about Harley Quinn's mental well-being – she just didn't want the Joker any where near HER.

A scowl briefly flew across the features of the normally smiling clown.

The guard looked over at two other guards who just shrugged their shoulders. Jerry walked over to the schedule and flipped though it. Another guard, Bill, went up to Jerry, nudged him and whispered something in his ear. Jerry put the schedule down.

"I don't see anything pertaining to that, Miss Isley," he replied.

The Joker flashed Isley a big nasty grin. She groaned, tightening her grip on the arm of the couch.

He grabbed the remote, flipping the channel from the news to the Cartoon Network, all the while staring her down.

Wesker piped up in his diminutive voice.

"Miss Harley, I'll have to stop rolling up these napkin bits for you soon. When Scarface wakes up, he won't like me being over here."

Harley paused in shooting spitballs -- at which by this time, Croc's face and arms were splattered with little paper bits --- and turned to Wesker, her blue eyes big like a sad puppy.

"Aww, Arnie, I'm sure ol' puppet-head won't mind."

Wesker shifted his eyes downward, fidgeting with the napkins in his lap. "Maybe," he replied at a near-whisper.

The Joker turned his attention to Wesker. He sat up a little, leaning towards the Ventriloquist, his head near Harley's behind.

"Arnie! When are you and that log of yours gonna make it official? Set a date yet? I hope my invite hasn't gotten lost in the mail!" Joker snickered. Wesker looked at his puppet longingly and didn't reply. He handed Harley another piece of napkin.

"Everything is a joke with you, Joker!" Isley said, huffing as she got up off the couch and stomped over to the window, and standing at the other side of where Harvey was seated.

Joker laughed. "Uh, duh, penis-flytrap. That's the point."

The theme song for Animaniacs roared on the TV.

By the sound of it, Crane had lost the chess match to Tetch. Crane got up and strolled over to the couch Nygma was seated at. His lips turned up into a smile.

"You know, Hallowe'en is coming up soon. Why don't we all play a game to celebrate the occasion? What's your greatest fear?"

Nygma groaned. "Professor, you always want to play this game. And we never bite. And Hallowe'en isn't coming up soon. It was months ago. In fact, I believe the next major Hallmark Greeting Card event the masses partake in is Valentine's Day."

Harley stopped lobbing spitballs at Croc and gasped. She turned to the Joker, looking at him beatifically.

He rolled his eyes.

"No," was all he said.

The girl looked utterly dejected. "But Puddin', you said you'd make it up to me for forgetting last year!"

He looked genuinely perplexed. "I said that? I don't remember that. The answer is still no. You're missing some spots on Croc, there, cupcake."

Isley walked back over, her arms crossed. She looked directly at the Joker. "It's OK, Harley. I remember important things to you --- like your birthday, and Christmas and even Hanukkah."

Harley beamed at her friend but before she could answer, her boyfriend already piped up.

"Venus envy, plant lady?" He smiled at Ivy in a way that wasn't exactly friendly. Widening his smile at Ivy, he placed his hand on Harley's back.

"You know, professor, I think we should play this game," Ivy said, her eyes unblinking in a staredown with the clown.

"My greatest fear is the world turning completely to industrialization, where rainforests, plants, not even a few blades of grass exist.

"And," she began with a sneer, "I know what Harley's greatest fear is. That's easy."

Crane perked up, happy someone had finally taken him up on his game.

Joker tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

"She would be beside herself if I wasn't there for her, if I died." Ivy walked over to Harley, put a hand under her chin, forcing the blonde to look up at her, but kept her eyes locked with the Joker's.

Peals of laughter burst through the room. The Joker clutched his sides, doubling over. Nygma wiped an imaginary tear from his eye, while even Wesker stifled a giggle. Harley frowned as Ivy's beautiful features were marred by an angry glare.

"Miss Isley," Nygma said, "Anyone with half a brain would know Harley's greatest fear is the Joker's death."

Ivy gaped at Harley, who only meekly nodded in acknowledgement. Joker smugly smirked at Isley.

"Red, I love ya and all, but just as a friend, a big sister! But my Puddin' dyin' ... oh I can't even think about it. It would be so awful. You understand, right?"

Ivy screeched. "Guard! I'd like to go back to my cell now!"

The Joker started laughing really loudly.

"See ya later, plant-lady!"

Ivy wheeled around, her eyes blazing, staring at Harley.

"Are you coming?" She asked.

Harley's face blanched and she looked around the room for an exaggeratingly long time, then at the Joker. He gave her a wink.

"Uhh, gee Red, I think the Smurfs is comin' on soon and it's the one where Gargamel makes Smurfette an' --- " but Ivy interrupted her by storming out of the common room, followed by a guard who began chasing after her.

Harley shrugged.

"Don't worry, Harl. Now about that fear of yours --- let Daddy tell you all about a little something called the Lazarus Pit."

Joker patted her on the behind and mouthed something that looked like "I love you" to her. She drew her breath in sharply and exhaled a contented sigh. "Whatta man! Oh, Puddin'! I love you, too!"

"No, no," he said. "I said 'Elephant shoe.' It's remarkable how it looks the same, though isn't it? Really, you should try it. Ele-phant Shoe. Enunciate it."

He chuckled at her tortured despair until she playfully swatted at him. He grabbed her hand, halting her.

"What about you, Eddie? What's your greatest fear? That you've finished all the crossword puzzles in the world and there are none left, ever?!" Joker said, letting Harley's hand go. She held it and rubbed it gently for a moment before turning back to Wesker for more napkins.

"No," Nygma replied haughtily. "No, I think the day when my mind becomes weakened by dementia and old age and is not the powerful weapon it once was. And since there is still no cure for this decrepitude, I shall suffer a true anguish in which my greatest fear will be recognized."

"Blah, blah, blah," Joker said as he leaned back against the arm of the couch once more, crossing his arms behind his head.

Crane eyed Nygma gleefully. "That was beautiful," he breathed, grabbing a napkin off Wesker's lap and a crayon from the chess table. "I have to write that down."

Nygma rolled his eyes. "Well, professor, we already know you have chiroptophobia, ironically, the fear of bats. But what about you, Harv?"

The room was silent for a painstakingly long time, although Harley did not stop tormenting the drooling and drugged Croc and Joker busied himself by pointing out to her all the spots she still needed to hit.

Then suddenly a deep growl came from by the window.

"If one of us were to die. That is something we could not fathom," Harvey said, still looking out the window.

"Hmm," Joker said. "And here I was thinking his greatest fear was losing face in front of the ladies! Ha, ha! What about you, Hatter? Afraid there might be no more little girls for you to snatch up?"

Jervis put a finger to his mouth in a thoughtful pose and told the room he would fear the "day he stops believing." Joker gagged and yelled: "Lame!!" He started tickling Harley, pouncing on her and causing her to roll around on the couch. Wesker abruptly hopped off the couch as the clowns began giggling, muttering something about checking on Mr. Scarface.

"Ventriloquist, you haven't answered yet," Prof. Crane said, eyeing the old man. Wesker, who was now tending to his puppet, replied softly: "Mr. Scarface's disappointment gives me great anxiety."

Crane cackled, muttering something about "delicious, pungent smell of fear," while Nygma shook his head. He looked over at the clown, who had pinned Harley to the couch, tormenting the girl with his long, dextrous fingers. She was squealing and giggling, making Joker once again the centre of attention in the room.

"Joker, you never answered," Nygma said. The clown looked up at the Riddler and grinned.

"Well that's because I fear nothing," he said.

"Not even life without Batman?" Nygma pushed.

For a split second a look of what could only be described as sheer terror flashed across the Joker's face.

To Nygma's delight, Harley caught the look, quickly became affronted and pushed the Joker off her.

A smug smile tugged at Nygma's lips as he delighted in watching to see how the clown would charm (lie, manipulate, squirm) his way out of this one.

If anything delighted the majority of the rogues, it was watching another villain admit defeat. And besides, it certainly kept some thrills within the walls of the otherwise dreary asylum.

She scooted to the edge of the couch and crossed her arms, looking pointedly away from the Joker.

He scowled at Nygma, causing the Riddler to chuckle.

The clown got up, moving closer to the pouting blonde.

He put his hand under her chin, moving her head to face him.

"Harley," he said in an overly syrupy voice, "Why are you here?"

Without a moment's hesitation, she cooed: "Because of you, Puddin'!"

Nygma rolled his eyes. His hopes of ruining the Joker's day were sorely and quickly being dashed.

He put his finger up in the air, clearly about to say something that would throw the clown off his foothold, before the Joker continued on.

"So pumpkin, well then who could appreciate you as much as me besides Batman?"

Harley squealed contentedly and settled in underneath the Joker's arm as he looked over at Nygma.

Nygma's jaw dropped. Even Crane and Jervis looked surprised.

Joker had once again re-affirmed his place as the rock-star God of the rogues.

For once, there was nothing witty Nygma could say in return.

"Sick, you're sick, you know that, Joker?"

Joker threw his hand up flippantly in the air. "You say tomato..."

Nygma's intense glare at the clown was broken when the guards started hollering at the inmates.

"Time's up!" Jerry said, as the other guards began ushering them up off the couches. Four guards kept a handle on Harvey Dent, while six guards approached the Joker. Suprisingly, this time he'd decided to go back to his cell "as meekly as a lamb," as the clown put it.

Nygma was led back to his cell by just two guards. It was no matter, he thought. He would just have to get the best of the clown through a battle of wits -- of which, he knew he would be the champion hands-down. Apparently, he noticed, they seemed to be taking an extra long time to get to his cell.

"Boys, are we taking the most remote route to get back to my quarters? Do you need a compass, perhaps?" He queried.

"Pipe down, Nygma," the guard named Jerry said. "We'll get you to your room."

They unceremoniously dumped him into his cell, at which point he dusted his clothes off where they had roughly handled him. It was two more hours before dinner and it gave him a fair amount of time to catch up on his reading. He'd just started Stephen Hawking's A Brief History of Time in the morning and expected he'd be finished reading it by then.

He went over to the small table near his cot where the book lay and spotted a note sitting there. He picked it up and read:

_Eddie_

_Wanna talk about fear? _

_Sit and ponder this for awhile:_

_How did I get in here? _

_---J_

Nygma spun around, gasping. He ran to the glass door of his cell and yelled across the hall to the Joker: "How did you do it, clown? How did you do it?"

The Joker started cackling maniacally from his cell, clutching his sides in sheer delight at Nygma's consternation.

Nygma pulled at his hair, screeching: "How did you do IT? Goddamn you, clown!! I have to know! I HAVE TO KNOW!!"

*Fin*

* * *

A/N: _This is just a fun little piece of fiction exploring how the Joker manages to take down all the other rogues a notch. _

_His conversation where he's placating Harley (Harley, why are you here?) I owe 100% to princessebee. Thanks for the insight and help!!!  
_

_As for Ivy, I don't think she actually cares if the Joker is making jokes about other people. She just wanted him to STFU. _

_And Eddie ... oh poor Eddie. He got pwned.  
_


End file.
